


Sleepless

by twinsarein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-05
Updated: 2010-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is back, but Dean can't quite believe it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless

Dean looked over at the other double bed in the motel room and sighed.  For the first time in his life, he wished that Sam snored.  Or, at least that he was a restless sleeper, because that would mean rustling sheets and little creaks of the mattress springs.

 

As it was, Sam didn’t snore, not even one little snort, and he slept like the proverbial log.  He barely moved while he slept at all, or if he did, it was a slow motion, not quick, abrupt, and best of all, noisy.

 

Because of it, Dean wasn’t sleeping.  Hardly a wink.  He would just start nodding off, when he’d jerk back to wakefulness to look at his brother.  To make sure he was still there.  That Sam hadn’t disappeared back into the pit; into Lucifer’s cage.

 

Heaving a sigh, Dean rolled onto his back and flung an arm over his eyes.  He couldn’t go on like this.  Sam had returned more than a week ago, and Dean is doubtful that he’d  managed even a dozen hours of shut-eye.

 

Lowering his arm, Dean turned to look at the other bed again.  He really didn’t understand it.  How could Sam sleep so soundly?  So far, his little brother hadn’t talked about his time in the pit, and Dean wasn’t pushing it.  He knew what it was to need some space after getting out of hell.

 

Still, you’d think Sam would be having nightmares or something.  Instead, he slept as if he didn’t have a care in the world.  Dean wished he could do the same, but he couldn’t get over the feeling that if he looked away, Sam would be gone.  That if he fell asleep, when he woke up, he’d discover Sam’s return was just a dream.  Maybe he’d get over it in the next ten to fifteen years, but he couldn’t wait that long to get a decent night’s sleep.

 

While Dean watched him, Sam slowly rolled onto his side, exposing his back.  Dean traced the lines of Sam’s broad shoulders, the acres of bare skin that led to the dip in his lower back right before it slopped up into his ass.  Dean felt slight stirrings of arousal, but forced them back.  

 

That was something else he and Sam haven’t done since the other man returned, but Dean wasn’t going to rush him there, either.  Even though Dean missed the sex, he knew it would take some time for Sam to want to resume that aspect of their relationship.

 

Looking at Sam’s back gave Dean an idea, though.  Before it was even fully formed, he was moving.  Throwing his covers back, Dean put his feet on the floor, and took the one step over to Sam’s bed.

 

Sam’s covers hadn’t been pulled any higher than his hips to begin with, so Dean just slid his legs under them.  As soon as the bed dipped down, Sam woke up and looked over his shoulder.  Dean froze on the spot, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

 

“Dean, what’s going on?   What’s wrong?”

 

Sam’s voice was slurred with sleep, but Dean had been translating Sammy-speak since before the kid could walk, so he had no trouble understanding him.  

 

Dean wasn’t about to tell Sam that he hadn’t been able to sleep; his younger brother would never let him hear the end of it.  But, covering how he feels is something else Dean does really well.  “You were whimpering in your sleep, and it was keeping me awake.  I figured that maybe if I indulged you, and cuddled you like the damn girl you are, you’d quiet down.”

 

Moving across the bed, Dean pressed his front to Sam’s back.  Draping an arm over Sam’s waist, Dean moved until his lips were touching the back of Sam’s neck.  For the first night in a week, Dean felt his body relax.  

 

Sam started to say something, but Dean didn’t want to risk being questioned, so he interrupted before Sam got out more than his name.  “Jeez, Sam, I can’t believe this is what it’s come to, just so I can get some sleep.  Settle down, will you, and stop being such a girl about everything.  I need some decent shut-eye if we’re going to finish the hunt tomorrow.”

 

Pulling Sam closer, or more accurately pulling himself closer to Sam since the guy was huge, he shut his eyes and relaxed even more against his brother.  Dean couldn’t believe how right it felt, as if pressing his body to Sam’s had helped the world click into place again.  God, he felt like such a girl, thinking things like that.

 

As unsettling as those thoughts were, Dean couldn’t fight his tiredness anymore.  Not now that he could feel Sam against him.  His last thought, before he slipped into slumber, was that at least as the big spoon he wasn’t a complete woman.

 

*************

 

The next night, in another motel room because of course their hunt had been successful, Dean lay in his bed staring across at Sam again.  The jerk was sleeping soundly, once more.

 

Dean remembered how well he’d slept the night before, all plastered to his brother.  He hadn’t had any nightmares, and he hadn’t jerked awake once in a panic about whether Sam was still there or not.

 

Sighing heavily, Dean traced the lines of Sam’s back with his eyes, much as he had last night.  His brother looked really good, but as horny as he often was, Dean didn’t want sex, he just wanted Sammy.  To hold him; to know he was there.

 

With those thoughts, Dean reached down into his pajama bottoms to cup himself, then blew out a breath in relief at finding his dick still there.  He was afraid for a second that he really had turned into a girl.  In the Winchester line of work, anything was possible after all.

 

In the end, Dean decided that it didn’t matter how much of a girl it made him feel like.  He needed this.  He needed it too much to pretend to himself that he didn’t.

 

Without another thought, Dean flung back his covers, and slid into Sam’s bed.  He kept going until he felt Sam’s back all against his front.  “Dean?”

 

Flinging an arm around Sam’s waist, Dean tightened his arm.  “Go back to sleep, Sam.  And, see if you can stop that damn whimpering.  Your girliness is going to drive me crazy if I can’t get some sleep.”

 

When Sam didn’t say anything else, Dean relaxed.  Breathing deeply, he started to fall asleep, but not before he felt Sam lay a hand on the arm Dean had around his waist.  With that connection, Dean’s mouth pulled up into a smile, even as Morpheus dragged him under.

 

***************

 

After that second night, a pattern was set.  Dean no longer fought with himself about it; he would just wait until he was sure Sam was asleep, and then crawl into bed with him.  Spooning up against Sam’s back, he’d put an arm around his waist, and push his face into Sam’s neck or hair.

 

If Sam woke up, then Dean would tell him since Sam was such a girl, Dean was giving up on expecting to get a good night’s sleep in his own bed.  

 

Dean would never admit it out loud, but at least to himself he would admit to preferring the times Sam did wake up.

 

When that happened, Sam would rub up and down the arm over his waist with one of his huge hands, and the connection Dean felt with his brother as his cuddling was reciprocated was even stronger.  He’d tighten his arm around Sam in response, rub his foot along Sam’s calf, and use his other hand to stroke Sam’s hair.

 

For Dean, the absolute best times were when he could start the night out spooning along Sam’s back, instead of waiting for him to fall asleep first.  It didn’t happen often, but every once in a while Sam would look at him in a certain way, and Dean would accuse him of using his puppy eyes on him so Sam wouldn’t have to sleep alone.

 

If it seemed that Sam was going to call him on it, then Dean would interrupt him every time to head him off at the pass.  Dean knew his excuses were just that, and wouldn’t hold up under Sam’s intelligent scrutiny.

 

****************

 

After two weeks of nightly cuddles, Dean was finally feeling like he’d caught up on all that sleep he’d missed the week after Sammy came back.  They still weren’t having sex, but surprisingly, Dean was okay with that.  He was in no hurry for it.

 

Yeah, he liked sex, a lot, but even without it, he was feeling closer to his brother than he’d felt in years.  Since before he’d moved to Stanford, at least.  Maybe since Sam was a kid who worshipped his older brother and depended on him for almost everything.

 

Pressed up against Sam night after night, feeling him breathe and his heart beat, Dean was feeling calmer, more peaceful, and more focused than he ever had.  His brother was back in his life, and Dean was determined that that wasn’t going to change ever again.  Not until it was the natural order of things.

 

That last thought made Dean’s arm tighten involuntarily around Sam.  Even though death was a natural part of life, and was inevitable, he didn’t want to think about it right now.  Not while he was holding Sammy, feeling all signs of just how alive he was.

 

Unfortunately, his tension transmitted itself to Sam, who started to wake up.  “Dean?  Are you okay?  You don’t usually wake me after you’ve crawled into bed.”

 

Dean scoffed.  “I’m fine, Sammy.  Just making sure your hunter senses are on alert.”

 

“Are you sure?  Is there something I could do to help you sleep?”

 

The direction his hand took when he reached back to Dean, made it impossible to mistake his meaning.  Dean jerked his hips back, out of his brother’s reach.  “No, dude.  I’m fine.  Really.  We can wait until you feel ready.”

 

“Dean--”

 

“Jeez!  Let it go already.  Bad enough you can be such a girl, now you’re turning into a wife?  Offering me sex, not because you want it, but just to help me sleep?  I thought the nightly cuddles were going to be the worst of it.  I don’t know what to do with you anymore.  Why--”

 

“Dean!  Sam’s sharp tone shuts surprises Dean into shutting up.  His hesitation give Sam time to prop himself up a little, so he can more comfortably look over his shoulder at his brother.  “It’s okay.  You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

 

“Pretend?  What do I pretend?  I don’t pretend anything.”  Sam’s calm statement has Dean sputtering, but when Dean pauses for a breath, Sam jumps back in.

 

Reaching down, Sam picks up the hand Dean still has around his waist, and links their fingers together.  “I like the cuddling, too, Dean.  I feel closer to you than I have in years.  I wish we could start out like that every night, instead of you waiting until I fall asleep, or pretend to fall asleep.  I want the sex back too, and soon, but in the meanwhile, I just want this to continue.  To keep feeling your warmth at my back, your breath next to my ear, your arm holding me close.”

 

Hearing his sentiments echoed back to him in Sam’s voice, leaves Dean feeling nonplussed, and he just stares wide-eyed at his brother for several seconds.  Several smartass comments flit through his brain, but he doesn’t say any of them.

 

Instead, he lays back down, tightens his grip on Sammy’s hand still linked with his, and huffs out a breath against his brother’s neck.  “Go back to sleep, Sammy.  We have a big hunt tomorrow.”

 

Settling back down, Sam presses back against Dean just a little more, and tightens his own grip on their fingers.  “Okay, big brother.  Sleep well.”


End file.
